


That's not the way it feels

by jenny_wren



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 06:17:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenny_wren/pseuds/jenny_wren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'She's living in LA with my best old ex-friend Ray'</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's not the way it feels

**Author's Note:**

> Kink meme prompt: Can I have a fic based on the song "Operator" by Jim Croce from Jim's point of view?

Jim bounced back on the large double-bed, shoulders propped against the head board, and surveyed the visiting officers’ quarters.

“Wow, pretty swish.”

He bounced again. The faint creak of the mattress was loud in the empty apartment.

“Right, let’s get on with this.” He scrambled up to grab a pen and paper from the bedside table and clicked on his comm, grinning at the bored drone of acknowledgment from the Starfleet switchboard operator

“Hey, can I get a number, please, for Commander Spock? I never got his new number when he took a posting planet-side. Probably because I wasn’t really speaking to him at the time, given he was leaving me to move in with my ex-best friend and all.”

The operator gave a wordless moan of sympathy.

“Oh yeah,” said Jim, aware he was babbling but not actually able to stop himself. “It doesn’t make any sense to me. They didn’t even _like_ each other. On a couple of occasions I had to order them to be civil. Guess that’s the way it goes, huh?

“Anyway forget all that. Can you find the number? I need to give them a call, show ’em I’ve learned to take it well. Can’t complain can you? It’s not as if love is something you can control. Whatever we had obviously didn’t mean much of anything, wasn’t real - even if it damn well felt real to me.” Jim shook his head rapidly like a dog surfacing, that hadn’t been what he meant to say at all.

“So number?” he demanded gruffly. 

He tried to take down the numbers, but half way through the words clogged in his throat poured out without his permission.

“You know, I can’t even decide if I hate Bones more for stealing Spock, or Spock for stealing my best friend.”

Then Jim abruptly remembered that he was over all that. 

“Not that I hate either of them any more of course,” he added hurriedly, “That would be easier actually. Anyway, that’s all in the past. It’s why I’m calling them, to show them I’m fine. Can you give me that number again?”

He paid strict attention and studiously carved black marks into the white paper. It didn’t help.

“Uh operator, could you do me a favor and put me through. I can’t actually read the damn numbers. There’s something in my eyes. Got a cold coming on. Well, pretty much had a cold since it happened.

“Bones was my first real friend. And Spock. I thought Spock and I were that once in a lifetime –” Jim’s voice gave out and he had to swallow hard. “And they both just… So obviously none of it was real, even if –” his voice gave up again.

“On second thoughts,” it was getting hard to breathe around the pain lodged in his throat, “Let’s forget about the call. There’s no one there I really want to talk to.” 

He took a deep shuddery breath,

“So, uh, sorry for bothering you. Thank you for your time.”

Jim closed his comm, slid off the huge, empty bed and pressed his face into his knees. He was fine.


End file.
